


make a memory out of it

by dizzy



Series: road trip mix tape 2018 (aka, the tour fics) [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 00:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: Dan and Phil from the perspectives of the people around them, spread over two tours.





	make a memory out of it

**Author's Note:**

> Written for sweetmm, who prompted this in 2016. Sorry I didn't get it to you in time, but I hope you would have liked it.

**The Sound Guy (2018)**

He only takes two days to say yes when the offer comes across his desk to tour with them again. 

The last time was an adventure, full of people he grew to like and a job he certainly doesn't hate. Maybe this isn't the scene he'd always pictured in his head, screaming teenage girls with painted cat faces, but the pay is more than fair and he's always had an itch in his bones to see more of the world. So he says yes, and both his bank account and his roving spirit are relieved. 

The bosses, they're nice guys, too. He watches them every single night from across crowded theaters, behind his board of dials and digits and displays. He hears their voices in his sleep, the long nights in hotel rooms and snatched naps in between shows. 

He doesn't spend much time with them. They keep to themselves, hovering most of the time in public spaces with a half a dozen people circled close around them like a protective barrier. 

They disappear together the second they're given the chance, into back rooms at venues and hotels and private lounges in the airports. That's fine with him; it's none of his business, now is it. 

 

**The Merch Girl (2016)**

She's young, and she's got stars in her eyes.

Everything is amazing to her, even the days that aren't. She's half in love with everyone she meets. She wants to know all these people, for all of her life. She’s old enough to know she won’t, but young enough to still dive into these new relationships she’s building with gusto even so. 

She's so fucking grateful to them, to Dan and Phil. She sees the fans bubbling over with love and pride and she feels the same, she feels it thrumming through her. Maybe she doesn't watch their videos on the internet but she understands their power to change lives. 

They've changed hers. 

She daydreams about telling them. They're around, sometimes, but they seem untouchable. When she told Martyn that he laughed but he didn't disagree. He just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Catch them at the right moment." 

There are moments, but that right one never comes. Every time she starts to think it might something stops her. They're intimidating even when they're all smiles, they're closed off except for each other. 

It's okay. They've got plenty of people telling them how great they are. She'll just toss her thoughts and gratitude into the wind and hope it lands where it should. 

 

**Martyn & Cornelia (2018)**

"Russia looks like it was lovely," Cornelia says, scrolling through on her phone. 

"There are too many pillows in this bed," Martyn says. 

There are, in fact, quite a few pillows on the bed. He throws two down, then looks at her like he expects her to scold him. She likes her pillows quite a lot. 

Instead she turns her phone to the side to show him. "Isn't this one nice?" 

Martyn can't bring himself to call a photo of his brother lovely. "Do you wish we’d gone?" He asks. 

She thinks about it, swiping over to the next picture. Staring at it, she shakes her head. "No."

"Why?" He asks, settling back into bed. 

Fuck, he thinks. 

Not enough pillows now. 

"Because..." She looks at the photos again. "They're young, aren't they?" 

He tries to situate one pillow behind him. It sits awkwardly against the two still there. "Not that young. I guess. I don't know. What is youth? A state of mind." 

She rolls her eyes at him. "I just mean - they're having adventures. They're young and they've got the time and the energy and the money. And the energy, did I say the energy?" 

"You like adventures," he points out. He swaps out the pillow he'd picked up for the flatter one with the frills on it. “You’ve got energy. More than me.”

"I like some adventures," she says. "But quiet adventures are nice." 

"No more loud adventures?" He's not sure what to think of that. Sleeping on the bus was fairly horrific. But he'll do it again, if she wants to. He's a happy follower, and he's never been disappointed at any road she's led him down. 

Also, the pillow is too flat.

"Maybe,” she says. 

America or no America, that’s been the question on their minds. Luckily he’s allowed to push the decision, being one of the bosses and all. “That’s fine,” he says. “We can go but just for a while?” 

“Maybe,” she says again. She shrugs and puts her phone down, turning onto her side and tucking her pressed-together hands under her cheek. “I don't know if it's my season of life.” 

He leans over and kisses her. She hums a happy sound into it, but he’s distracted by the way he’s slightly falling off his pillow mound. 

She pulls back and looks at him with soft, sleepy eyes. "But I'm glad it's their season right now," she says. 

Martyn just hums. She’s still being sentimental. That’s fine, but he's got no real opinion there. 

"Corn?" He asks, voice petulant. 

She rolls her eyes and reaches out, tossing the pillow furthest back in his pile to the ground. "There." 

He leans back and wiggles his shoulders, sighing. "Perfect."

 

**The Bodyguard (2016)**

He knows what his job is. He knows how to do his job. He knows how to do it well. They hired him for a reason, and he'll be a consummate professional with every breath he draws. He will keep them safe, he'll keep the area secure. He'll be the eyes and ears so they don't have to be. He'll do his job so they can do theirs. 

He'll even enjoy it, too. Pictures to send back to his girl. Eating some good food in some of his favorite cities. This weird kick on the internet where people are saying he looks like Drake. It's not bad. 

And those guys - they're not bad either. They're just... different. They've got a job that doesn't even sound like it should be a real job. They're from another country. But he's been around the block a few times. He's done some traveling. He can gel with that. 

It's the other stuff - the stuff no one talks about. That's what's throwing him off. 

It's not like a hate thing. He wasn't raised to hate people like them. He was raised to love everyone, like the good book says he should. He's even got that one cousin that no one talks about, that one that only comes home at Christmas to see his momma and then leaves again right after. 

So it's - fine. Like, it's fine. He just doesn't quite know what to do with it, except look the other way when both go to sleep at night. There aren't exactly bunk beds behind that door at the end of the bus. 

"You don't have to do anything with it," his girl tells him one night as he sits on a back entrance step talking to her. They’re on stage, so he takes his privacy when he can get it. "It's not yours to do anything with. They're people just like you and me." 

"I know they're people." He bristles, feels talked down to. 

She just laughs and moves the topic along, but the words stick in his mind. Late that night when he's crammed into his bunk and he hears the quiet muffled laughter a few feet away he thinks that he still doesn't get it, probably won't ever get it, but he can live with that. 

 

**The Manager (2018)**

She's not their mother. 

She's not their friend. 

She's not their boss, really, nor is she entirely an employee. 

But some days she feels a bit of each, their roles in this whole strange convoluted mess of a career they're all carving out together akin to a deck of cards not quite shuffled correctly. 

She does care for them, and they care for her. It would be impossible not to. Familiarity breeds a family of sorts, and it's good that it's gone this way since she sees them more than her own family sometimes. 

She knows their ins and outs, she's suffered through their highs and lows right alongside them. She knows their struggles, the ones they want to share and the ones they've been forced to. She feels frustration and compassion in equal turns. Sometimes the job feels like it’s not worth it. Sometimes she can’t imagine living any other life. 

But right now, standing just to the side and watching them flourish under the lights, she mostly just feels fond and proud.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Sarah, all around lovely person and the most patient human being ever with my writing insecurities, for beta reading.


End file.
